


Backless

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, HP: EWE, Post-War, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-21 18:39:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3702161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts when Snape is bored at a boring party where he sees a woman in an open backed dress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

This was the most boring Ministry event he had yet dragged himself to.  Perhaps it would have been worth the combined ire of Minerva and Narcissa if he had stayed home after all.

Severus was on his third glass of firewhiskey, sitting at a shadowed corner table, observing the crowd.  He was just biding his time, counting minutes until he could leave without it being noteworthy enough to earn a mention in the Prophet. He was still but for the occasional lift of his glass, sinking back into his surroundings, ensuring he was left fairly well alone.

As he scanned the crowd she stood out immediately.  He saw only her back.  _Oh, but what a lovely back it is_ , he thought.  She was petite, a brunette with her hair in a simple, smooth knot at the back of her neck. Her elegant black gown was open in a wide v, showing off lovely pale skin, smooth as silk.  He admired the way her shoulder blades lay flat and strong, but still delicate, the way the muscles shifted under her skin. 

He imagined his hands on the back of her ribs; he bet his large hands would engulf her.  He imagined holding her still as he dragged his lips down her spine, from her hairline he would slowly caress that long line of vertebrae with an endless soft stroke of his mouth, down the nape of her neck, down between her ribs feeling her heart from the back, down further as her spine curved gracefully in, letting his tongue dart out, dragging his hands to her tapered waist, and down further. 

Severus shifted in his seat.  He let his thoughts drift for a moment further, imagining himself behind her, taking her, thrusting into her lovely graceful body, seeing his own hand smoothing over her pale form as she leaned forward in front of him.  Her skin would look softly golden next to his white hands. He imagined his hands on the front of her shoulders, both of them on their knees, holding her tightly to his chest, the lovely silken skin of her back sliding against him as he fucked her. He shifted again and finished his whiskey, keeping his eyes on the lovely woman in the backless black dress. He watched her body move as she spoke animatedly with someone nearby.

Nearly time to leave, he allowed himself one more moment to imagine this lovely creature and all of the ways he would worship her beautiful body, how he could make her writhe, how he would love to taste her as she knelt on his bed on her elbows and knees.

Suddenly his vision saw only black silk, interrupting his lascivious train of thought.  It took him a moment to focus but when he did he found himself looking at the very simple, and covered, chest of an elegant black silk dress.  He immediately snapped his eyes up to the completely shocked face of Hermione Granger.

*

Hermione tried to enjoy the party; she had even bought a beautiful new gown for the event.  She was thrilled to find something classic and simple, a black silk gown with a high neckline and a full skirt.  She wasn’t sure about it being backless, but she did always get too warm at these things and thought that the open back of the dress would prove to be quite comfortable.  She had been so happy to discover that the full skirt even had pockets.  Ginny laughed at her when she proudly mentioned her reasoning (and pointed out the pockets), she said that only Hermione would buy a backless silk ball gown for practical reasons.

She felt so pretty that evening, but the party itself was turning out to be quite boring.  Everyone was a little too drunk and a little too sick of Ministry galas.  In all of the years since the end of the war there were just too many of these things, celebrations and fundraisers and more celebrations and awards ceremonies.  But she did her best, trying to bring some life to a conversation with one of her old classmates.

She had felt eyes on her for a few minutes now, but at such events she reasoned that one always did.  It was crowded and there were photographers, and of course people would be looking at each other.  She couldn’t shake the feeling though, so as the music started and the crowd began to expand, she let the man she was speaking with be swallowed into another conversation.  She stepped back a few paces, away from the ring of people surrounding the dance floor. Without turning, she glanced around to see who might be watching her. 

At first there was no one, just a few empty tables. Then she saw him, sitting in a shadow; Professor Snape.  And he was . . . well, he was sort of, ogling her.   He looked . . . hungry, practically drooling.  She glanced to either side of her confirming that she was indeed the object of his very inappropriate gaze.  As she turned around completely, rather stunned, his eyes quickly raised to hers.  In that moment she wasn’t sure which of them looked more surprised.

 

 


	2. two

They stared at each other for several moments before Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

“I- “ He started. When no additional words came out he cleared his throat.  Remembering himself, Severus tried to start again, “Miss Granger- “

“‘Mione, you aftatrythese” Ron Weasley appeared at her elbow, munching on some sort of mini éclair and carrying a very full plate of desserts.  “Oh, ‘Lo Professor.” He nodded to Snape, completely oblivious to the awkwardness he had just walked in to.

“Hermione!” Harry ran up to her other side and Hermione broke her stare from Snape to see why Harry was out of breath. “McLaggen’s looking for you, I told him you went to the atrium with Ginny. He was bragging to Rita Skeeter about being your first dance of the night and I think they’ve got a photographer in tow.  If you don’t want to have to hex anyone tonight you may want to leave early, or, I’ll dance with you, but . . . “ Harry finished with a shrug.

“No.  Thank you, Harry, but, no.”  Harry was rubbish at formal dancing and Hermione didn’t want to subject her poor toes to his attempt.

When she turned her gaze back to the table she saw that Snape was gone.  The table now occupied by Ron and his towering plate of mini pastries. Hermione sighed and decided to call it an early night.

*

The following Monday Hermione was in her office working on her latest report to the Minister when someone knocked on the door. She was so engrossed in what she was writing that she didn’t even raise her head after calling out “Come in.”

The door opened and closed, and after coming to the end of a paragraph she looked up to see who had disturbed her.  She was quite surprised to see Professor Snape. Hermione sat back in her chair and just looked at him for a moment.  He was clad in black, as always, in that old fashioned long coat with a million buttons.  He looked as tall and thin and formal as ever.

“Miss Granger,” he bowed formally, one arm folded behind his back, “I believe it is the custom in such situations for the young lady to hex the person who conducts himself as rudely as I have.” He straightened, standing stiffly.  “At least it was the last time I behaved in such a deplorable manner.”

“I-“ Hermione’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, “you want me to hex you?  Sir?”

“You need not call me sir, Miss Granger. And it is not a case of want; rather we both know that I behaved disrespectfully towards you.  It is only right that I apologize and accept a hex.  I am sorry for behaving so horribly.”

“Professor-“ She said with a sigh, already tired of this.

“Miss Granger,” Snape said in the stern tone she remembered from school. “I am no longer a Professor.   The hex of your choosing, if you please.” He said the last 3 words slowly, enunciating each.

Hermione folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at him. “You did NOT come to my office, interrupt my day, and rudely demand to be hexed, all because of an earlier rudeness!” Her irritation was evident as her voice rose at the end of her statement.

“I apologize, Miss Granger,” He said, pained. “This situation is  . . .” He closed his eyes and took a slow breath and looked down as he continued. “This situation is extremely embarrassing and though I have no right to ask, I hope you will kindly put an end to it quickly.”

Hermione stayed as she was.

“Why come here at all?  Why not just pretend it never happened.” She asked.

“I am no coward.” He replied.

Hermione continued to regard him in slightly less annoyed silence.

After several moments he added, “All evidence to the contrary, I am not a man who treats women poorly.  I admit that the other night I did just that. As my transgression was against yourself I will accept whatever hex you feel I have earned.  Had I stayed at the gala we would both be subject to gossip.  I thought the matter would be better handled privately, and in your environment.”

Hermione rose from her chair, she came around the side of her desk and gestured to the visitor’s chair, “Please sit.” Once Severus was seated she leaned back against her desk, arms crossed in front of her again, but her stance was more casual than aggressive.

“I do not enjoy hurting others, Mr Snape. I know how it feels to curse and hex another being, I did plenty of it before and during the war, and it makes me sick to do it now unless I truly feel threatened.  You’re asking me to do something that I find painful in response to an incident where you  . . . what? Objectified me? It’s ironic, isn’t it?” She said calmly.

“I see.  I apologize again, Miss Granger, I did not realize I was asking something of you that you find distasteful.” He felt like even more of an ass. _Of course she of all people would feel this way_ , he thought it obvious in retrospect.  “As I said, it was the custom when I was younger and as such, it is how I counseled the young ladies of my house to reprimand those who treated them poorly.  I should have considered my request from your point of view; it is another embarrassment to admit that I did not.”

“I appreciate your coming here to apologize.” Hermione straightened and extended her hand, which Snape shook after standing. “I would appreciate it if we could both consider the matter closed.”

“Thank you, Miss Granger.”  He bowed to her slightly before reaching for the doorknob.

“Thank you, Mr Snape.” Hermione nodded to him as he left.

*

Two weeks later Severus was sitting in a small café.   He was the only patron in the very early morning.  He watched as the street outside of the window slowly began to come alive. A woman ran across his view, he only saw her for a second as she strode quickly by, clearly on an early morning run. 

As he was preparing to leave the café however, the woman ran back.  She had stopped in front of the glass door Severus was preparing to exit, stopped and leant forward with her hands on her knees to catch her breath.  Severus noticed the sweat glistening on her skin, even on her strong, shapely, legs.  She was wearing the smallest shorts, as he supposed young women did when exercising.

Before he could even think of how he might look, he was admiring her fit, firm body.  His head was tilted to one side, looking at her creamy thighs and firm round bum. His mind just beginning to think of how much he would love to feel such a lovely firm bum, how he longed to touch a woman again, to press himself against her, run his hands over her soft skin, squeeze that firm little arse in his hands-, when he saw it swing around.

His eyes snapped up to the disbelieving, exercise-flushed face of Hermione Granger.

“Honestly?!” She yelled, looking right at him as she threw her hands up in exasperation.

Severus looked around, no one else was in the café, and the sole waiter was behind the counter, busy setting up for the impending morning rush. Yes, she was definitely talking to him. He opened the door and closed it quickly behind him, joining her on the sidewalk.

“Miss Granger, I . . . I can’t even begin . . . “ He stumbled, thrown entirely off.

“This is how you spend your time?  Leering at every woman who crosses your path?!” She hissed, barely restraining her voice even though she was aware that they were on a public street.

“Certainly not! It’s only you that I-“ Severus froze, mouth open.  _What the fuck did I just say?_ He thought.  Hermione’s eyes bulged and her mouth dropped open as well.  A heartbeat later they both snapped their mouths shut.

 

 


	3. three

This had not been the way Hermione had anticipated spending her morning.

She’d gone for an early run and had planned to grab a coffee to-go on her way home.  She was going to shower and dress and head in to the office for a few hours, and then she would meet some friends for brunch and then run errands in the afternoon. 

Instead she was being half-supported by Severus Snape as she hobbled on a twisted ankle through an alley in order to avoid the hated Prophet photographers.  She wasn’t even sure how they knew that she had been yelling at Snape on the street, thankfully he had seen them the instant the first one apparated and had pushed Hermione behind him and told her to run.  They had ducked down one alley after another until a missing cobblestone had Hermione falling forward, Snape catching her a second before she would have hit the ground.

They ducked around another corner, hoping to have lost their pursuers.  No such luck by the sound of it.  Hermione finally took a second to concentrate, grabbed Snape’s hand, and apparated them into her flat.  She never considered leaving him behind.

*

Severus felt the pull of apparation and found himself in a tidy, open flat.

“I don’t know why we didn’t think of that in the first place.” Hermione said as he helped her towards the sofa. “No! I’m too sweaty, and I just bought that.” He steered her towards her kitchen instead. 

"I didn't want them to get a shot of us disappearing together.  I am confident though that they did not." He said as she hopped up on her kitchen counter and he dragged a chair from the table.  He sat in front of her and gently reached for her injured ankle.  “If you’ll allow me, Miss Granger. I can assess your injury and perhaps treat it, with your permission.”  She nodded and he began to tenderly remove her shoe and sock.  Her ankle was sprained, but not broken, and he was quickly able to heal her.

He didn’t release her foot right away, as he knew he should. Her foot was so small in his hands, her ankle delicate and tapered, lovely little toes painted pink.  He suddenly realized he was dragging his thumb along the arch on the inside of her foot, as apparently did she.  She looked at him curiously as she pulled her knee up and her foot slid out of his hand.

“What is wrong with me?” he said at the same time as she asked, “Has someone cursed you?”

“Cursed?” he considered her question for a moment before returning the chair to it’s place.  Hermione hopped down from the counter and tested her weight on her ankle.  “You recognize that I am not myself?”

“Definitely.” She sighed, “I’m going to go change. Perhaps you should wait here and then we can assess whether you might be under a curse or a spell.  Try to remember if you’ve eaten anything unusual or anything you didn’t prepare yourself.”

“Thank you, Miss Granger.”  Severus was thinking hard as he moved to a soft chair across the room.  He took a moment to consider whether he might have been exposed to a love potion or curse. His actions were certainly unusual, at least unusual for him as an adult.  He had been caught staring at girls a few times as a teen, but he had quickly broken the habit, and he certainly hadn’t been the only boy enslaved by hormones.

 _But why now, why Miss Granger?_ He wondered.  He had never previously held such thoughts for her, nor for any student, if he had he would have sent himself to Azkaban immediately. 

He faintly heard the shower turn on and his mind wandered again to the lovely woman using it.  Before he could help himself he was picturing her, arms raised as she washed her hair, clouds of white bubbles running down her curving body. How the hot water would reduce friction if he were to run his hands over her.  He imagined running his hands up as the water glided down, cradling her breasts, feeling her hardened nipples against his palms, hearing her moan over the sound of the water, her lithe, wet body sliding against his. His eyes sprung open.  It had happened again, and she wasn’t even in the room.  He rolled his eyes at his lap where he was very obviously hard.

He certainly thought about women, but not like this, not so detailed, not without control, not in such inappropriate settings as public events or in the flat of a young lady (not that he had previously been to the flat of a young lady).  He whispered a spell to alleviate his predicament as soon as he heard the shower shut off.  He rose, standing rigidly in front of the window to regard the street below, arms folded behind his back. 

A few moments later he heard the floo flare. “Miss Weasley,” he drawled, not even turning around, “Unconcerned about catching cold?”

“Professor.” Ginny greeted, uncaring of her current state of undress. She walked barefoot towards Hermione’s bedroom, knocking lightly on the door before entering. “Hermione? It’s me, I’m looking for that blue dress, I can’t find it anywhere. Have you got it? Also, why is our old potions Professor in your sitting room at 7:30 in the morning?”

“Hi Gin,” Hermione emerged from her bathroom wearing a towel, “I think it’s in the closet.”  Hermione looked at Ginny, taking in the fact that her friend was wearing only a bra and tiny boyshort knickers.  “Ginny, did anything . . . odd happen when you came through?”

“You do know Snape is in your sitting room, yeah?” Ginny asked, pausing her search for the dress. “I’d say that’s a little odd.”

“I bumped in to him when I was running this morning. Did he . . . do anything when he saw you?” Hermione asked slowly.

“No,” Ginny answered just as slowly, “He didn’t even turn to look at me, just made a snarky comment.  Basically the usual.”

“He didn’t look at you?” Hermione said to herself as she puzzled over it.  Ginny was beautiful and athletic, miles of fair skin on display and long silky red hair. An idea for an experiment occurred to Hermione. “Ginny, will you help me test something?  It will mean walking back out past Professor Snape in your knickers?”

Ginny just shrugged.  “Whatever you need,” she said as she resumed looking for the dress.

*

The two women emerged from Hermione’s bedroom a few minutes later.  Ginny was still in her knickers and bra, carrying the blue dress casually over one arm. Hermione wore a pair of enormous old sweats, her body swallowed in shapeless grey material except for her head and hands.

 


	4. four

Severus glanced at them and then rolled his eyes and turned back to the window. “Am I to glean that _this_ is your brilliant plan?”

Hermione was undaunted.  “We’ll see if you make the same face when you look at Ginny as you have with me.“

“And what 'face' do I ‘make’ exactly, Miss Granger?” He moved as he spoke, coming to stand directly in front of Hermione, looking down his long nose at her as he affected his familiar intimidating demeanor.

“The face where I know exactly what you’re thinking,” Hermione deadpanned as she looked up at him.

Severus had the sense to keep his mouth shut, aware that a blush had risen on his pale neck.  He hoped the collar of his coat was high enough to hide it. He looked at Ginny Weasley as she barely contained her amusement.  She raised her arms and gave a little wiggle, but Severus only sighed and rolled his eyes again.  He dragged his gaze past Hermione as he turned to the window.

“I think it’s just you.” Ginny told Hermione. She smiled as she started pulling on the blue dress.  “Why would you think it’s magic?”

“You think something else might be the cause?” Hermione asked curiously as she fastened the back of the dress for her friend. She wanted to be sure to test every possible cause to help Professor Snape.

“You mean besides the fact that you’re brilliant, and gorgeous?” Ginny looked at Hermione like she was crazy not to have considered this, Hermione just looked away.

“Ginny,” Hermione drew out her friend’s name.

“Until you prove it’s not a possible cause you have to consider it might just be that he fancies you,” the redhead replied cheekily as she headed towards the floo.  Ginny added, “and have fun disproving that,” just before the flames flared and she called out her destination.

“She’s right.” Hermione nodded solemnly, lost in her thoughts as she looked down towards the floor.

“Miss Granger-” Severus started.

“No, she’s right.  But how does one test that?”  Hermione wondered, caught up in her thoughts.

Severus was pulled into his own thoughts. He wondered why had he gone to her office? Beyond all of the reasons he told her . . . he discovered that he just wanted to see her.  This was not good, not good at all. 

“Miss Granger, I believe it is time that I stop imposing upon your Saturday.” He bowed slightly and turned to leave.

Hermione caught his arm, moved to stand between him and the fireplace, “we need to figure this out.” She said sternly.

“Thank you for your offer Miss Granger, but I am certain I can resolve this on my own,” he said.  Hermione pushed further into his personal space, craning her neck to look up at him.  “What are you-“ She put her hands on his thin chest. He grabbed her wrists to remove her hands, suddenly aware of how small she was, his fingers wrapped around her slim wrists and overlapped his thumb easily.  He looked down, seeing his hands wrapped around her, seeing her small delicate hands.  She had ink stains on one finger, short rounded nails.  _Lovely little hands_ , he thought, how large would his cock look with her small, soft hand stroking-

He dropped her hands and took a large step back. “Miss Granger, this is highly inappropriate.”

“You made that face again,” she took a step towards him, one he matched with a step back.  She arched her brow at him while he frowned at her.  She was still between him and the fireplace. He wondered if she had wards preventing him from apparating.

“Good day, Miss Granger.” He said, his deep voice growing louder, still trying to capture an air of intimidation.

“If you really wanted to leave you wouldn’t still be here,” she said as she took another step forward.  Her face was clean from her recent shower, he could smell her shampoo on her still wet hair.  It hung long and damp on her shoulders and he imagined he could almost see the curls reforming and tightening as it dried.  He felt she was practically daring him to touch her. _How easy it would be_ , he thought.  She took another step forward, clearly challenging him, placing her hand on his chest again.

“This is what you want, child?” he grabbed her upper arms this time, not as gently, making her gasp.

“Is this what you want?” She challenged, not intimidated even though he was holding her tightly, holding her up so that she stood on tiptoe.  “By the looks on your face I know your thoughts haven’t tended towards rough.”

He released her abruptly and she stumbled back before catching her balance. “You. Know. Nothing.” He sneered the words and turned for the fireplace.

Fabric hit him in the back of the head. He reached up to pull it from his shoulder and realized he was holding a large grey cotton shirt, damp at the shoulders. _From her damp hair,_ his mind supplied.  Oh how he wanted to turn around, in that moment though the only thing he wanted more than to turn around was for this to be anything other than the young witch’s misguided experiment.

“I would say we’ve been equal in our rudeness today.” He dropped her shirt to the floor and continued to the floo.

“Goodbye, Miss Granger.” He said, emotionless as he turned and called out his destination.  He hated his weakness, but at the last moment he looked.  The one glance he saw of her before the green flame consumed him was of her standing naked, grey sweats in a puddle next to her feet, her hair pushed back to bare one shoulder and falling forward to cover the other. Dark curls caressing one lovely breast while the other was bare and perfect and alert.  The light from the window behind her gave her skin the same golden hue he had imagined it might take in candlelight.

 


	5. five

Two weeks after the incident at Hermione’s apartment Severus sat in front of his fireplace, a glass of whiskey dangling from one hand as he stared into the flames, unseeing.  He was expected at the Ministry event that evening, but he hadn’t dressed for it and had indulged (again) in more whiskey than usual.

The flames flared green and Lucius Malfoy stepped through.

“Aren’t you on house arrest?” Severus greeted.

“Narcissa got them to make an exception, which is why you need to get your skinny arse dressed for this Ministry charade.” Lucius said as he haughtily brushed soot from his robes.

Severus moved only enough to lift his glass to his mouth and swallow.

“She needs you there, Severus.” Lucius said sternly.

“Always needed, never wanted,” Severus mumbled around the rim of his glass.

It finally took the threat of a sobering potion, but an hour later the two imposing wizards walked in to the Ministry event amid gasps and stares.

*

Hermione felt horrible.  She had been trying to send an apology to Professor Snape for weeks.  She knew she had pushed too far and had offended him, and in retrospect she thought she understood why. She hadn’t been able to reach him through any means.  She had tried everything short of sending her patronus; that seemed a bit extreme even to Hermione.

When he walked in to the ballroom that evening Hermione knew she had to take the chance and speak with him.  She felt sure that at the least she could secure an appointment to meet with him privately.  She was just about to make her way across the room to him when Draco appeared at her side.

“We’re on, Granger,” he said stoically.

*

Severus watched as the lights changed to highlight the dance floor.  Someone was finishing a speech about unity and charity and some such sentiment, and then there she was.  Hermione was wearing a long white dress; when she turned he saw that once again her lovely back was exposed.  This time though her arms were bare, showing some fading scars from the war.  He thought she looked like a modern version of the goddess Diana, strong and beautiful, and (to him at least) untouchable. For a moment he imagined that she should have turned him into a stag for his impudent glimpse of her standing naked and golden in the sunlight.

As Severus watched he saw Draco leading her to the center of the dance floor where they began a very beautiful waltz. Lucius was speaking but Severus barely paid attention, he caught something about Narcissa and a donation and some kind of deal, but mostly he ignored his friend and watched Hermione float gracefully with the music.

*

“When this is done, you need to walk me over to Professor Snape and your father,” Hermione whispered through her smile.

“Very funny, Granger, you’re hilarious,” Draco whispered back through his own forced smile.

“Not kidding, Draco.” She replied.

“What the fuck are you up to?” He asked.

“Just do it.” She tilted her head to catch the light just in time for the approaching photographer to capture tomorrow’s front page.

*

Severus was so caught up in watching her move that he didn’t catch the song ending, and Draco escorting her directly towards him, until it was too late to turn away. Hermione greeting Lucius caused a flurry of flashbulbs to go off.  Severus heard gasps all around them as well. 

“Mr Snape,” she offered her hand to him, “it’s so lovely to see you tonight.  I was hoping we might speak for a moment.  It seems that I am in need of your expertise with a problem I’ve created.  May I meet with you on Monday at your office, or at mine?”

“Miss Granger, I am sure you don’t need my input.” He started to look around as he spoke, aware that the entire crowd was watching Hermione and ignoring the now open dance floor.

“But I do, truly. I understand what I’ve done wrong, what I failed to consider, and I need your . . . ” Hermione pressed her lips together as she considered the next word. “I would very much like to have just a few minutes of your time.” She concluded.

Severus was saved from having to reply when Narcissa suddenly glided towards their little group, “Ah, Miss Granger, how lovely you look this evening.”  Severus didn’t miss the satisfied look on Narcissa’s face as she obviously angled herself in the middle of Lucius, Draco, himself and Hermione, smiling just before another round of photographer’s flashes.  Severus spotted the minute wince that ran through Hermione in that moment, a movement so small that even the wizarding photographs were unlikely to capture it.

Severus swallowed his pride, “Perhaps we can discuss the matter over a dance,” and he offered his arm.  Hermione smiled, grateful and beautiful, and took his hand.

“Thank you,” she said as he led her to the dance floor (and away from the Malfoys).

“Certainly,” he replied formally, taking her in his arms for the dance.  This was suddenly harder than he anticipated.

As they began to move she said, “I owe you an apology.”

“Thank you, Miss Granger, but that is unnecessary.” He said quietly.

“It **IS** necessary.” She said firmly, “I was rude, just as you said, and I failed to consider your point of view.”

Severus was silent as they danced slowly on the now crowded floor.

“You can hex me.” She offered a hint of a smile “if you feel the need.”

Severus looked down at her, the beautiful witch in his arms, and just for a moment imagined that she was there because she wanted to be and not out of a stubborn sense of obligation.  He imagined her wanting him, just for a moment, before his mind again supplied his own words from earlier in the evening, _always needed, never wanted_.

“NarcissaMalfoygavemelessonsinwandlesslegimancy, because, she, um . . . “ The words spilled quickly out of her mouth as Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise.

Severus suddenly brought what Lucius was saying earlier to the forefront of his mind; Narcissa succeeding in ending his house arrest, a large donation to one of Miss Granger’s projects, a public appearance with Draco in exchange for-.

 _Shit,_ he thought. 

Being careful to occlude his private thoughts as he silently danced Miss Granger in the direction of her friends Miss Weasley and Harry Potter. Unfortunately he was so preoccupied with occlusion that he missed that Ginny Weasley was speaking to the enraptured audience of Lucius and Draco Malfoy, as Harry Potter tried to pull her away.

“ . . . so there I was in my knickers-“ Severus caught as he brought Hermione to a stop in front of her friends.  Both Malfoy’s turned to Severus in shock (and possibly a bit of admiration), -“and Hermione had only a towel on-“ Ginny continued, giggling.

“George, Veritaserum in the punch.” Harry Potter said as he lifted his redheaded fiancé off of her feet to finally pull her away. Severus rolled his eyes; veritaserum in combination with alcohol amplified the effects of both. _Bloody dunderheaded ginger troublemaking,_ his thoughts began to roll. They overheard Ginny’s voice fading into the crowd, “love you so much, Harry, and you have the most amazing tongue in the whole-“

“I drank the punch!” Hermione whispered to him, covering her mouth with both hands.

Severus pulled her towards the nearest floo as the crowd behind them grew louder and louder.

 


	6. six

_Bloody Ministry, bloody parties, bloody dunderheads,_ Severus thought as he led a silent Hermione into his sitting room.  She still had both hands over her mouth.

“I have a veritaserum antidote, I think, if you’ll wait for just a moment.”  Severus headed towards the potion storage cabinet off of his private lab.

Hermione lowered her hands and looked around the room. He lived in quite a tidy house. He had books everywhere, but no mementos, no pictures.  She tried to fight the effects of the potion/alcohol combination influencing her system, but it seemed futile as she curiously followed a dark hallway further into his house.

*

Meanwhile, having returned to Malfoy Manor, Narcissa was incensed that George Weasley’s juvenile stunt may have tarnished her perfect plan.  A plan that had succeeded even in obtaining pictures of Miss Granger with Lucius, something the girl had very stubbornly refused to agree to.  The evening had unfolded so perfectly, better than she dared to even hope, before everyone started slurring drunken secrets all over each other.  The Malfoys were, of course, unaffected.  A Malfoy never drinks from a communal punch bowl, after all.

“Cissa, are you listening to me, he was in the girl’s flat with her in just a towel and the other one in only her knickers!” Narcissa turned an angry face towards her husband.  She was one of the only people alive who ever saw how much Lucius loved gossip.  His eyes lit up as he savored the sordid details like an old woman in a sewing circle.

“Lucius-“ She started.

“How did he not have a heart attack? They’re half his age! And fit! Did you see how hard it was for Potter to drag away the Weasley girl?  Do you think it was both at the same time or-?”

“Lucius! I do not care if Severus fucked every girl who ever went to that school all at once! The story in the papers tomorrow is supposed to be about US!” Narcissa scolded.

“Already on it, Mother!” Draco called out from the terrace as he retrieved a message from an owl and read it to them, “The drunken nonsense will be one short story, a single paragraph below the fold, continued on page 6.  We’re the lead.”

“Thank Merlin SOMEONE is helping,” Narcissa hissed at her husband.

Lucius continued undaunted, “No wonder I had to drag him out tonight, he must be exhausted! He wasn’t even occluding when Draco danced with the Granger girl.  Severus, not occluding! I think I may even have caught a momentary flash of her naked-“

“Lucius!!” Narcissa began to lose the last of her patience.

“Father, perhaps you should put that in the pensieve,” Draco said as his Father’s gossip drew him in from the terrace. “For, erm, safekeeping.”  Draco had played up his Father’s love of gossip since he was boy, promising to always tell Lucius about the goings on of those around him.   If anything of interest happened, he made sure Lucius heard about it.

*

Severus returned from his potions cabinet to find his sitting room empty.  He disappointedly assumed that the girl had floo’d herself home in embarrassment. He set the now unneeded potion on his mantel and poured himself another whiskey, glad that his earlier drinking meant that he hadn’t touched the tainted libations at the event that evening.  He carried his drink down the hall towards his bedroom, not bothering to light the way.  He grew sad with the expectation that his evening was going to end with memories of dancing with Hermione in his arms while he lay alone and drunk (hopefully) in his bed.

Instead, upon entering his bedroom he found Hermione, feet hanging over the edge as she reclined on his bed. He stopped in the doorway when he spotted her in a pool of moonlight.  She giggled at him and said cheerily “Your bed is so big!” she flung her arms wide to emphasize her point, “it’s loads and loads bigger than my bed!”

His bed was indeed large, a carved monstrosity with posts and a frame at the top.  It reminded him of the great bed of ware.  The extreme size of it only ever served to make him feel more alone.

“This is what happens when one allows Narcissa Malfoy to assist with their decorating.” He said dryly.  He lingered near the doorway, resting one arm along his high dresser as he leaned against it, sipping his drink.  He swore that he was allowing himself only a moment to admire the image of Hermione in his bed.

Hermione just giggled again, “She tricked me. Made me dance with Draco. We even had to practice together like back in school.”   She raised one slim leg and he saw that her dress had a very high slit, she pointed at him with the toe of her shoe and he watched her calf and thigh flex. “She taught me how to look in your head.” Hermione whispered like it was a secret, “And you like me, I saw it.”

“Perhaps I should bring you that antidote, Miss Granger.” He moved to set his drink down.

“No, no, no. No Miss Granger! And, no antidotes, I’ll never ever tell if I have it. ” She propped herself up on her elbows, looking even more appealing,  “You like me and I’ve so wanted you to,“ she grew suddenly, almost comically sad, “but I thought you thought I was ugly and frumpy and awful!”

Severus offered his hand, “Up now, Miss Granger,” he said gently.

“No! You come down here, Severus,” she raised her arms and grabbed at the air with her hands, motioning him to join her on the bed, “It’s so much nicer down here,” She tried to grab his hand but missed considerably. “And I want you to come down here, with me, please.”

“Severus,” he heard from his sitting room. Severus kicked himself for forgetting to close off the floo for the night.

“You stay where you are or I’ll petrify you.” He said quickly to Hermione before hurrying down the hall towards the sitting room where he found Lucius Malfoy had again come through without an invitation.

“Severus, you might want to close that off, apparently Ron Weasley is all in a fit about some of the things his sister disclosed this evening.  Rumor has it that he even gave Harry Potter a black eye after hearing some of the racier details!” Lucius said conspiratorially.  He fled the Manor in search of someone to listen to him after Narcissa went off to bed, and he couldn’t get Draco to take his face out of the pensieve.

“Severus!!” Lucius eyes widened in gleeful surprise at the sound of a pleading female voice coming from Snape’s bedroom, “Come back!  Please!!”

Severus looked towards his bedroom door and then back to Lucius. “Leave now or I will obliviate you.”

“Well done, old boy!” Lucius whispered as he backed towards the floo and was gone a moment later with a euphoric twinkle is his eye. Severus sighed and retrieved the antidote from his mantle, closing off his floo just in case.

“I should have petrified you,” he said upon returning to the drunken witch in his bed.

“But, I stayed right here,” She pouted and waved her arms around herself, flopping back onto her back and making it very obvious that the cut of her dress hadn’t allowed for a bra. “I didn't want to go anywhere.  I like being in your bed, because it’s yours.”

“Severus, who was that?” she reached for him again, even though he was at least six feet away.

“Lucius.  He thinks I had sex with both you and Miss Weasley, by the way.” Severus rubbed his forehead.

Hermione laughed again, “I’ve never had sex with more than one other person at a time. And never with another girl, though Lavender got smashed at a party once and kissed me.  Ron loved it, he turned so red I thought his head would explode.” She set herself off in another round of giggling, turning on her side and holding her arm over her belly.  When she stopped laughing enough to talk she asked, “Have you had sex with more than one other person at a time?”

“No, I have not.” He replied.

“Did you drink the punch, too?”

“No.  But I’ve told you the truth.”

“Will you call me Hermione, please, I want to hear it in your lovely voice.” She asked.

Severus stepped slowly towards the bed and Hermione’s face brightened as she reached for him, giggling again.  Just for a moment he tried to capture the picture of her, like this, in his mind.  She was so happy and playful and reaching for him; it made him smile fondly at her as he said, “Close your eyes for me, Hermione, and open your mouth. I have a potion for you.”

Hermione did as she was told, and he tipped the small vial containing the antidote into her mouth. 


	7. seven

Before Severus knew what was happening her lips were on his. Her mouth was warm and soft and her wet tongue was sliding into his mouth.

He pulled back abruptly, his movement outpacing hers as she leaned forward to try to resume kissing him, “Severus,” she moaned.

“It’s not working.” He breathed.

“Give it a moment, we have all night.” She said as she smiled and moved forward again.

He sat up, back rigid. “I meant the antidote,” he said stiffly.

She only chuckled, “Your antidote worked just fine.” She ran a hand up his arm and onto his shoulder.

“Miss Granger-“

“No more Miss Granger! You called me Hermione, and it was so lovely.”

“-if the antidote were working you would be on your way-“

She interrupted, suddenly looking confused, “You? You think I would go?”

He stood, straightening his coat and contemplating the empty vial, “I’ll test the residue from the vial before trying any other-“

“Severus Snape, your potion worked just as it should. Can you really not believe that I want to be here?” She was reclining on the bed on her elbows now, looking up at him in disbelief. He noticed how the slit of her dress left one shapely leg uncovered, the fabric pooling next to her thigh. “Honestly, you believe that one of _YOUR_ potions could have failed, over believing that I want to be here?”

“Miss Granger-” he started as he turned his gaze from the beautiful witch.

“No more Miss Grangers, and I mean it.” She told him sternly. “Do you really address all of the women you bring to your bed so formally?”

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation as he retrieved his drink and downed the remainder, “Technically, you brought yourself into my bed.” He grumbled, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the high dresser.

He couldn’t help but think about the fact that she was the only woman who had been in this bed since he had come to own it. The women who approached him were acting out on whimsy it seemed, a quick shag in an empty coatroom at a party while calling him ‘Professor’ and wanting to play detention. He had put an end to such dalliances over a decade ago when he realized that was all they would ever be. The women he approached, well there were no women he approached, as he was too proud and too sure of rejection.

Two slim arms wound around him, “I don’t even need legimancy lessons; you’re practically projecting your thoughts right at me.” She tightened her hold, pressing herself to his back, “And I am not after a one-off or some deluded school-girl fantasy.” She released her grip and moved to his side, looking up to his face.

“I want dates.” She told him, firm and clear-headed. “This includes you providing dinner or an activity on at least half of the occasions. I don’t care where, or if it’s a restaurant or if you cook,” he turned to stare at her in stunned disbelief. “I expect conversation. I like music, so a concert might be nice if you enjoy such things as well. I expect to go to the bookstore with you sometime, though I will pay for my own purchases. I like flowers, all sorts, and wine.” She finished matter-of-factly, “I also expect sex.”

“You . . . ?” He just started at her, half turned towards her in his surprise at her short speech.

“That look you give me holds an awful lot of promise, Severus.” She chided.

“ . . .” he could only blink at her.

She laughed at him and brought her hands to rest on his chest, “but the potion . . . “ he said, warring with himself.

“I am no longer under the effect of veritaserum, and I only had a glass and a half of punch all night so the alcohol is not effecting my judgment either,” he felt sure that she could look into his eyes and see his every inner struggle. She had also started undoing the buttons on his jacket.

“Please Severus, I want you to kiss me.” She whispered as she strained to reach his lips.

He could hold back no longer.

“Sod it.” he murmured, taking her lips with his own he moaned into the kiss before sweeping a surprised Hermione into his arms and carrying her back to his bed.

 

*

Narcissa was at her dressing table when Lucius returned from his brief visit to see Severus. She ignored him when he walked in, still rambling on about Severus and his young women. Narcissa had slowly removed all of her jewelry, makeup and the spells she used on her face and hair. She took her hair down and brushed it out so that is was long and flowing over her shoulders, though she noted it was not as shiny and soft as it once was.

She continued to look at herself as Lucius continued speaking. Looking at lines and wrinkles that even the best potions couldn’t prevent. She saw discolorations in various places, thin spots in the skin at her temples. Looking closely she started to believe she could see gravity and age making the skin of her face slide slowly but persistently down.

She was frowning at herself when he finally noticed her silence. “Princess?” Lucius asked.

She frowned deeper at the old endearment. He first called her that on their wedding night. She sat then as she did now, without makeup or magical enhancement, with her hair down. She had been even younger when she married than Miss Granger or Miss Weasley were now. _Young and fit and lovely_ , she thought.

“’Cissa? Princess?” He crossed the room to stand beside her, “Is it the event tonight that’s bothering you? I’ll take care of that asinine Weasley prankster . . . “ Lucius started.

“Leave it alone, Lucius.” She said tiredly.

“If he’s upset you-“

“Stop.” She said, finally breaking her gaze in the mirror and looking down, only to be faced with the sight of her hands in her lap. _Like my Mother’s hands_ , she thought.

“Darling?” Lucius knelt at her side, clearly concerned.

He had only knelt before her like this twice before. The first time was on the day her father told her that she was to marry Lucius Malfoy. Lucius had come to the house that afternoon and taken her to the garden. He knelt before her then as she sat on a bench surrounded by rose bushes; he gave her an engagement ring that had been in his family for fifteen generations. The second time was after she stood in this very room and told him that she was pregnant with Draco. He had swept her up into his arms and then abruptly set her back onto her feet and made her sit on the end of the bed. He had knelt before her and tentatively held a hand near her belly, worried that he had jostled the baby.

“I’ve upset you.” He said, even more troubled.

She said nothing for a moment, only looking away from him. Lucius knew his wife well, so he held his tongue and waited.

“Mother warned me,” she said finally. “I was so young, but she told me how it would happen. ‘Someday,’ she said, ‘you’ll have to look the other way.’ She told me just after she had explained about the wedding night-“

“Is that what this is?” He asked seriously, interrupting her. “All these years and you’ve thought-“

“No.” Narcissa shook her head, “Not all these years, but now-“

“NO.” Lucius said, taking her hands, “There is no other woman worthy of a Malfoy, for a Malfoy only the very best is ever an option.”

He looked into her eyes, willing her to understand that to him she was and would always be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, the only woman he would ever want. He wanted her to feel how, from the day he knelt before her in her garden, the question of women for him was firmly and definitively answered.

He nodded slowly, “I’ve talked too much of Severus and his young ladies.” He noted a slight blush on his wife’s fair neck, the clear sign that she was embarrassed. “I’m happy for the old man, but I do not envy him.”

Narcissa sighed, the only sign of relief that she would allow herself.

“Did I live up to your mother’s warnings about the wedding night?” he teased, letting her know that he would not discuss the other matter any further. He raised her hands to his mouth and kissed them one at a time.

“Lucius!” She responded, the blush now rising on her cheeks.

“Tell me my Princess, was it all as horrible as you expected?” He continued to joke, as they both knew that their wedding night had been wonderful. They had sat together on their bed and really talked that night, for the first time. He found that Narcissa was twice as intelligent as he had even imagined, and he allowed himself to show how clearly impressed he was by her. She had been relieved to find that in private he was gentle and respectful, not at all selfish or demanding as her mother had warned he could be.

Narcissa smiled finally, looking down at her husband. “She told me to sneak a calming draught and then lie back and think of England.” She teased back, moving to help her husband back to his feet.

Lucius swallowed the exclamation of pain as his wife helped him to stand. _Old man’s knees,_ he thought. Though Narcissa noticed she pretended not to.

“And is that what you did?” he asked, “I remember kissing you for hours after we stopped talking. Were you thinking of England as I was acquainting myself with your sweet lips?” He drew her into a kiss, smooth and firm and just as elegantly as he had on their wedding night.

“In fact I was,’ she said with a smile when the kiss broke. She took her husband by the hand and pulled him towards their bed, “I was thinking of England, and how every witch in it should be jealous of me.”

They both laughed, tumbling onto the bed together.

 

 


	8. eight

Hermione was a puddle. Her hair had come loose from its sleek knot and curls randomly sprung haphazardly out from her sweaty scalp. Sweat was glistening on her bare chest as she tried to catch her breath.

Severus moaned once again and raised his head from between her legs, kissing along her inner thigh as he went. He was determined to give this witch the greatest night of her life, so far. He would ensure that she would return to him; he _WOULD_ live up to her every expectation.

He also happened to love the taste of her, of her skin, her mouth, her cunt. His efforts were not at all selfless. He loved giving Hermione satisfaction, having her cry out his name. He enjoyed pleasing her perhaps more than he desired anything else.

He slid back on the bed, to the floor and onto his feet, standing to remove his open shirt and to finally remove his trousers and pants. He smiled as he looked down at her; his Witch lay before him, legs spread and loose from the pleasure he had brought her over the past hour. He had started with her sitting in his lap, just holding her, kissing and being kissed. He had finally found the hidden zip at the side of her dress, and then he had undone the halter neck, letting the thin silk puddle at her waist. He looked down at the blush on her nipples, hard and reddened from his eager mouth.

Her skin was softer and smoother and warmer than he had imagined. She was so responsive in his arms, drawing him close, pushing at his clothes to get to his skin – _Oh,_ his mind moaned, _the glories of her touch on my bare skin_. She was somehow soft and firm, athletic and curving, smooth and strong; she was everything, all at once.

As he finished removing the last of his clothing she looked up to him and smiled, reaching one hand to beckon him to her again. Of course he climbed back onto the bed, to her side, immediately, feeling her naked against him was ecstasy. He was glad he had taken the time to pleasure her earlier, as he wasn’t sure that even the whiskey in his system could prevent him from embarrassing himself at the first touch to his hard, flushed, cock.

“Severus, want you Severus, please,” she moaned into his mouth.

“You have me, Hermione.” He mumbled back as he took her slim thigh in hand and moved his hips to rub the leaking head of his cock against her wet cunt. She gasped at the sensation of sensitive flesh caressing sensitive flesh. They were both lying on their sides, face to face, so when she shifted her hips and took the head of him in his reactionary thrust was shallow, teasing them both. But Severus Snape was a patient man, even in this, and he drew out the almost painfully teasing moments as long as she allowed it.

Hermione finally used her strong legs and core to flip him into his back and position herself over him, sinking down until she ground against his pubic bone. “Yesssssssss, Severus,” she moaned. He could only lie back, watching the candlelight play over her golden skin as she moved. She raised her hands and finally freed her wild hair from its fastening, giving herself a riotous halo of shiny curls which bounced in time with her magnificent breasts. She was magnificent; Severus moaned again, which only made her smile. “You are mine, Wizard,” she smiled down at him. _That I am, Witch,_ he thought.

He called upon his last ounce of reserve and caught her around the waist to flip her onto her back. He spread bent knees and used one hand to support his weight, freeing his other hand to tease at the swollen petal of her clitoris. Yes, he was glad he had taken the time earlier, he knew now how to make her gasp and clench – perhaps that last part was not his greatest idea, for it felt far better around him than he could have imagined. _Gods, his Witch is strong everywhere._

“Oh you like that?” she did it again, on purpose, and laughed at his answering choked gasp. His beautiful Witch, laughing as candlelight and mischief and pleasure dance her in eyes.

He rubbed with his fingers and thrust with his cock, and prayed to any and all gods and wizards that Hermione come. And finally, finally, come again she did. She had a handful of his hair and she tugged at it hard just at the first strong clench of her. The dual sensation made him cry out. As she wailed in pleasure he finally came, and came. _Oh he would embarrass himself after all, oh the glory of her_ , he thought before he stiffened in her arms and near screamed as his vision whited out and his cock jerked hard inside of her again and again.

Minutes later, as his breathing returned to normal he noted first that his throat was very dry. Secondly he noticed that his Witch had all of her limbs clamped tightly around him. “Wow.” She breathed, not letting go. “Oh wow.”

“Indeed.” He answered, attempting to roll to the side so as not to crush her. He remembered he was supposed to do that, not crush her.

“No.” she stated simply, holding him in place.

“As my Witch pleases.” Severus mumbled into the pillow next to her head.

Her answering giggle caused a chain reaction, a tightening of her core and a light clench of her walls, an answering ragged gasp and a convulsion from him, and more laughter from her. She finally rolled him to his back, lying along his side with her head on his boney chest. He noted as she curled closer that she didn’t seem to mind that it was boney.

Hermione had been about to roll to her back, she wasn’t one to automatically assume such post-coital intimacy, but she felt Severus pull her near with one arm and his large hand, so she had happily snuggled into him. This somehow felt right to her, lying against him. After a while, as his fingers moved up her back and into her hair, massaging her scalp, she asked him, “Severus?”

“Mmmmmm”, the deep dark chocolate of his voice vibrated under her ear.

“Do you think, had I hexed you that day as you asked, would we have made it here?”

"Stinging hex?" he asked.

"Yes, probably."

“Hmmm, had you hexed me that day I’d likely have come in my trousers on the spot and subsequently died of embarrassment.” He said in deeply relaxed bliss.

She pinched his side, getting only a chuckle in return.

A moment later she asked, “What exactly do you mean you would have-“

Severus snapped his eyes open, suddenly realizing that he had divulged something unintentionally. Something that was very much a secret, even deep within his own thoughts.

“Um.”

She raised her head to look at him, “Oh you, you are in so much trouble.” She shook her wild curls at him, grinning at his predicament.

“I meant only –“ he tried.

“Yes, you meant only that you hoped I would choose a light stinging hex, as nearly every witch would, and you,” she poked a finger at the center of his chest, “would have gotten off on it, you naughty man.” Severus squirmed; she had indeed discerned exactly what he secretly hoped from the encounter.

“I, perhaps, um.” He hadn’t even admitted this to himself! _Bugger, she really does know everything,_ he thought.

“Got hexed frequently as a young man, did you?” she asked gleefully. “So now you like just a pinch of something else along with your pleasure?”

“Hermione, I, I know you don’t like-“

She lay a finger across his parted lips, “Oh Severus, this puts things in a much different light.” _So he likes a little sting and a bossy Witch, does he?_ she thought happily, _that, I can certainly do._ Her smile widened and her eyes danced in mischief. "We are going to have so much fun."

He finally relaxed, returned her joyful smile and moved to kiss her once again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might also like:  
> [volatile compounds](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2485304) \- HG/DM  
> [boggart](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1996032) \- HG/DM  
> [lab accident](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1889802) \- HG/DM  
> [hostage](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1844446) \- HG/DM  
> [disheveled](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1970013) \- HG/DM  
> [scars](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1863387) \- HG/SS  
> [legislation](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3581625) \- HG/SS
> 
> [performance](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3389843) \- Gotham, Alfred Pennyworth/OFC  
> [he really does have the worst luck](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1821925) \- BtVS, Spike/Buffy  
> [crush](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1822093) \- Criminal Minds, Garcia/Rossi


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